


Darkness, Darkness

by Lise



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (regardless of what Gwen wants), Angst, Brainwashing, Dark, Episode: s05e06 The Dark Tower, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Manipulation, Mind Manipulation, Morgana thinks she's right (she isn't), POV Morgana (Merlin), Shippy Gen, Took Way Too Long to Write, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, not actually as dark as it sounds maybe??, she just wants her friend back!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 22:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20142865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: She needs Gwen to understand. And then she won’t be scared anymore. They’ll carve out Arthur’s heart together.Morgana just needs time to persuade Gwen to see her point of view. Time, and a little help from mandrake roots.





	Darkness, Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> How long have I been writing this fic? I went and looked at the time stamp, just to make myself sad, and discovered that I started it in 2014. Yeah, that sounds about right. I've been writing it off and on ever since - tweaking, editing, etcetera - apparently for five years. Still worth it if it means writing the Morgana/Gwen darkfic I want to see in the world. 
> 
> I know this episode is controversial among Morgana/Gwen shippers, but honestly I love it. I love how much it shows about Morgana and how far off the rails she's gone, but also how desperately lonely she is - in the midst of manipulating and using Gwen, there's these moments of genuine affection and desire for companionship - desire to have her best friend (girlfriend) back at her side, whatever it takes. Of course, the form it does take is horrifying. But I am here for dark and messy and fucked up relationships. 
> 
> All that out of the way - thanks very much to [Echo](http://loxxxlay.tumblr.com) for doing an edit on this for me and making sure the end product all hung together. And if you like this...well, it's not like I _blog_ about Merlin very much these days, but I do have [a blog](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com) where I have a lot of feelings about female antagonists.
> 
> Enjoy. Stay out of mandrake root infested towers.

The way Gwen looks at her makes her want to scream.

She’s afraid of her, _terrified _of her, and Morgana wants to snap that she doesn’t _need _to be, that it didn’t have to be this way, that she could have ruled Camelot with Gwen at her side and never had to hurt her. If Gwen hadn’t turned on her, if Gwen hadn’t _betrayed _her-

_You were the one I believed in, _she wants to say. _I thought, I really believed that you were on my side, that you would understand. But just like all the rest, you turned against me in the end. And that’s why this has to happen. That’s why I have to do this to you. _

Morgana ties Gwen’s hands together. “You can ride with me or you can walk,” she says, coldly. Gwen looks at her with mingled defiance and fear for a moment, then her eyes narrow. She says nothing. For a fleeting moment Morgana is almost proud; Gwen’s grown up, blossomed, come into herself. They both have. 

_When the queenship is mine again, _Morgana thinks, _I will keep you beside me. _

If this works, she won’t even need a leash. 

Morgana tests the knots to make sure they’re tight enough. Then mounts her horse in one smooth movement and ties the other end of Gwen’s rope to the saddle. “It’s a bit of a walk,” she says. “Do try to keep up.” She can feel Gwen glaring daggers at her back. _This has to work. This needs to work. _

She needs Gwen to understand. And then she won’t be scared anymore. They’ll carve out Arthur’s heart together. 

The thought makes her smile.

* * *

Morgause used to say, _you can’t trust her. Your chambermaid. _

_Of course I can, _Morgana had said dismissively. _Gwen’s the only person I can count on. _

_Then why, _Morgause asked, _have you never told her about your magic? _

Morgause was right. Morgause usually was. And now Morgause is dead, and Arthur sits on the throne that should have been Morgana’s. 

The Dark Tower points into the sky like an accusing black finger rising out of the waste. It’s difficult to mistake and impossible to avoid. That’s rather the idea. Provided the knights survive – and they will, Arthur’s band are as hard to kill as, well, she is – they will ensure that she is followed here. 

Morgana reins her horse in. “What do you think, Queen Guinevere?” she says, without glancing back. “That’s where we’re going.”

“Give it up, Morgana,” Gwen says, though her voice rasps from thirst. Morgana feels a pang, and shoves it down. If Gwen would bend her neck and ask, she would give it to her, but she is as stubborn as any _Queen, _after all. “I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve-”

“It’s a surprise,” Morgana says, almost trills. “A lovely, lovely surprise.” She starts forward again, and Gwen stumbles after. _You used to surprise me, sometimes, _the urge bubbles up to say. _You used to bring me flowers. You should never have turned against me, Gwen. I would have taken care of you. _

The ground is dry and cracked under her horse’s hooves. The sun beats down on the three of them and doesn’t seem to touch the tower, even as they draw near. Morgana jumps down from her horse and unties Gwen’s hands, and Gwen sags forward, breathing hard, her hair frizzy and unkempt. For a moment, Morgana holds her up, holds her close, almost able to hear her chambermaid’s heart racing in her chest. 

“Gwen,” she says, softly. “I’m doing this for you.” 

“Stop,” Gwen says, and pushes her away. Her lips are cracked. “You’re not fooling anyone. Least of all me. I know what you are.” 

Morgana pulls her hands away. “You’ll see,” she says, voice hardening. “You’ll see, soon. I’m the only one who really cares about you.” 

* * *

She needs Gwen to get close to Arthur, that’s so. She needs the knife at his heart that he won’t see until it’s hilt-deep between his ribs. There would be other ways to get that, though – simpler ways. 

No; what she really needs is for Gwen to understand. For Gwen to suffer as she has suffered, to know what it is to be alone, _truly _alone. She needs to break Gwen down so she can show her the truth – that there is no one who can be trusted. Everyone will always betray her, in the end. 

No one reached out to Morgana when she was alone, in the dark, but if they had, she would have done anything for them.

Gwen won’t be alone. 

(And she won’t be alone either. Neither of them will ever be alone again.)

* * *

Morgana sits in the dark and listens to Gwen screaming. She knows what it is like, but her tower was a pit, and there was no one listening to her scream. A part of her wants to climb the stairs and take Gwen in her arms and offer kindness, but she knows it is too soon. A part of her wants to exult that finally someone will understand. 

_You should have trusted me, _she thinks bitterly, as Gwen’s screams turn into sobs and Morgana’s own eyes sting. _I loved you, Gwen. I loved you so much._

Arthur stole her away, but Morgana is going to take her back. 

When the screaming dies down, Morgana stands and ascends quietly, pressing her ear to the door. Through it, she can just hear the sound of sobbing, and closes her eyes. 

She reminds herself of how quickly Gwen turned against her. Gwen deceived her, acting like a friend even as she plotted against her. If Morgana gives in too soon, she will only do it again. She needs to stay at a remove.

Morgana opens the door and steps inside. “Gwen,” she says softly, and Gwen whirls around, her face streaked with dirt and tears, eyes wide. For a moment she looks relieved, and then her expression closes, transforming to suspicion.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” she says. “It won’t work.” 

Morgana quirks her eyebrows. “What am I trying to do?”

Gwen’s eyes flicker with brief uncertainty before hardening. “You want to poison my mind against Arthur. Against Camelot.” 

“Not against Camelot,” Morgana says gently. “As for Arthur...I only want you to see the truth, Gwen.” 

Gwen looks spitting mad. Still frightened, but angry too. “I see the truth of _you,_” she says. “I thought you were my friend, Morgana.”

“I was,” Morgana says. “And I thought you were mine.” She smiles unhappily. “I guess we were both mistaken.” She turns, and closes the door behind her.

In her heart she hopes, perhaps, that Gwen will call her back. She doesn’t, of course. She doesn’t understand yet. 

* * *

In the Sarum’s pit, Aithusa her only company, Morgana screamed herself hoarse. She’d thought she’d known what it was to be alone, to know without a doubt that no one was coming and no one would ever come. 

The Sarum showed her she was wrong. 

Morgana paces back and forth. Gwen isn’t screaming anymore, but it hasn’t been long enough. It can’t have been long enough.

But she can show a little mercy. The mercy no one ever showed her. Show Gwen that she is not what they all think she is, that she still loves Gwen and is just trying to get her to see that she is on the wrong side. 

That Morgana is the only person who really, truly cares for her as she deserves.

She lays out the table with meticulous care and surveys it, an odd flutter of nerves in her stomach. She begins to run her fingers through her hair, but the tangles catch and she scowls, giving up, turning to climb the stairs. 

Gwen isn’t screaming right now, but when Morgana presses her ear to the door, she can hear sobbing. She unlocks it and lets herself inside; Gwen twists, her eyes wide and frightened, staring at her in confusion as though she does not wholly believe in Morgana’s reality.

“Come,” she says. “Let us have something to eat.” 

Gwen doesn’t take her hand, but she follows, trailing in Morgana’s wake. She sits at the table and stares at the food as though it might be poison. 

“I do not know what cruel trick you are playing,” she says, some fire bleeding back into her as she shakes off the fear. “But I will not be broken by you.”

_No, _Morgana thinks with a strange, small pride. _Not so easily. You were always strong. Stronger than they knew. _“It isn’t a trick,” she says. “I thought it would be nice. I know how lonely you must be.” Gwen’s eyes flicker, and Morgana leans forward. “All alone in that room. At least there’s daylight. You can move; you can see.”

Does she understand what a gift that is?

Gwen laughs incredulously. “You expect me to be grateful?”

Morgana’s temper flashes and she digs her fingers into her leg so she doesn’t shout. “I spent two years living in darkness,” she says, and cannot quite keep the tremor from her voice. “I spent _two years _chained to a wall in the bottom of a pit-”

Gwen’s eyes have widened. She seems...surprised. As though…

“You did not know,” she says, slowly. 

One of the knots in her heart melts a little away. The Sarum told her otherwise. Told her that he had sent a message to Arthur, telling him that he held Morgana Pendragon. And Arthur had sent back to tell him to keep her and good riddance. She had pictured her former friends laughing at the wicked witch receiving her due punishment. Pictured Gwen…

But Gwen hadn’t known. Hadn’t abandoned her to torment, at least not intentionally. Maybe, if she had known...maybe Gwen would have come for her.

She wants to reach out. To take Gwen’s hand and say, _I thought you knew. It matters, that you didn’t. Gwen, please, listen to me. Don’t you understand how alone I’ve been? I need you. I need you at my side, on my side._

_He doesn’t deserve you. Arthur, Merlin - they don’t deserve you. Don’t you see that they’ll cast you aside as quickly as they did me?_

But it is too soon. Morgana bites the inside of her cheek and looks away.

“I would have sold my soul for someone to show me kindness like this,” she says. 

Gwen’s expression closes. “I don’t want your poisonous kindness,” she says. “Whatever you’re trying to do - it won’t work.” 

“I just want you to see the truth,” Morgana says, but Gwen’s dark eyes burn with defiance, her chin lifting, and she turns away. “Come, then,” she says, bitter. “I will take you back.”

They will be coming to rescue her. Arthur has never liked to lose what he considers his. How much time is left? 

She needs to make Gwen _see._

* * *

The magic of the tower digs in deeper. The longer Gwen remains locked inside, the worse it will be. What phantoms it shows her, Morgana doesn’t know, but she can hear them in Gwen’s distress, in her cries no matter how she tries not to listen. 

Instead, she lays traps, readying this place for the inevitable assault. Waiting, resisting the temptation to go, to open the door and take Gwen in her arms. 

When she gives in, Gwen is standing, and quiet, though her eyes are wild and far away.

“I thought you might like to dine with me,” Morgana says. When she walks toward Gwen to offer her hands, Gwen backs away, hunching her shoulders like she is trying to shield herself. Morgana stops, but stretches out her hand, a peace offering.

“Come,” she says. “You must eat or you will fade away.” Her stomach must be gnawing at her. She remembers how that feels. The ache of it, the wooziness and weakness.

Gwen reaches out slowly, her fingers cold where they slide against Morgana’s palm, only to snatch them away. She is dirty and frightened and wary, and it hurts, a little, but this is how it has to be. This is what Morgana needs to do.

“Your hands are cold,” she says gently. “Let me get a fire going for you. Anything you want, you can have. I’ll give it to you.” Morgana means it. She _wants _to give Gwen this comfort. Wants this to be over, wants Gwen to understand, to see the truth and embrace her and _it can all be like it was before._

Like it was before. Before, when they were friends. When Gwen brought her flowers and held her when nightmares woke her, when Gwen didn’t fear her and Morgana’s heart wasn’t heavy with hatred. That’s how it _should _be.

But Gwen recoils from her still. As though Morgana’s kindness is poison, as though she is as false as Gwen was when Morgana needed her most-

She leaves, closing the door behind her, and stands stock still on the landing, staring at nothing. 

What if she loses?

It is not a possibility that she has dared consider, but suddenly it seems like one she should have. What if they take Gwen from her too soon and she is lost to Morgana, for good? 

_You should kill her rather than take the chance._

No. _No. _Gwen is the key. Morgana needs her to strike Arthur. 

Needs her as a _friend._

There is still time, Morgana tells herself. There is still time. Gwen may be strong, but the mandrake root is stronger. Cruel, and vicious, and if it were not necessary...but it is, it is. It is the only way, and when it is over they will be together, as they always should have been. 

When the screaming begins again, Morgana presses her trembling lips together and descends the stairs alone.

* * *

Morgana waits for Gwen outside Camelot, a shadow amidst the darker shadows of the trees. She is like a wolf prowling outside the firelight, except that the firelight should be hers. Camelot was her home, her birthright. And yet it is closed for her, and she must hide in darkness like a thief.

She waits for Gwen, but she is not sure, at first, if Gwen will come. She doubts, pacing back and forth, that it did work after all, that Gwen is truly hers. Perhaps Gwen’s strength of will won out, and away from Morgana she forgot everything Morgana tried to teach her. Perhaps Morgana was tricked, again; perhaps she has been betrayed, again, and Arthur’s knights are coming to kill her even now. 

Something moves, and Morgana leans forward, holding her breath.

It’s her, and Morgana’s heart swells in her chest with relief. Gwen’s embrace is warm, and her hair smells like flowers, and for the first time in forever Morgana feels something like safety. They are together now; them against Arthur, against Camelot, and Morgana will not let them be sundered again. _You need never be alone again, _she said, and meant it. _I am the only one you can trust, _she said, and meant it. 

“Do you understand now?” Morgana asks, cupping Gwen’s face, searching her eyes through the darkness. “Who you can trust?”

“It’s you, Morgana,” Gwen whispers. “It’s only ever been you.”

“You are not one of them,” Morgana says. “And never will be.” 

They are outsiders both, they two. But they are outside together, united, and Gwen will help her burn Arthur’s kingdom to the ground. 

That’s all that matters.


End file.
